Love in San Francisco – Part Two

There’s just no way I can talk about anything in San Francisco until I tell you about my family’s new, special friend.

I want to introduce you to the crazy squirrel lady. You can find her in Berkeley, where people who are just a little crazy are green lit to go full-force bananas. She frequents the marina, where the squirrel gather to eat her treats. Now, before we get into those treats, Id like to tell you why she says she feeds a population of rodents. You see, she’s pissed. The city of Berkeley plans to exterminate all the squirrels in the marina area, because they are digging holes near the water and sewage is seeping into the bay. This may of course, all be in her head, I have no idea.

For their last meals, these squirrels are treated to a healthy diet of shortbread Girl Scout cookies. The cookies are broken into two or three pieces and held out for the little squirrels to come and bite. She offered to let my kids feed the animals, an opportunity which they obviously jumped at, while I cautiously watched.

Here’s a special Bay Area kind of crazy for you, show the rodent population love with carbs! They are going to die, so she takes special care to not let them die without experiencing diarrhea.

Now, on to San Francisco. When you visit, you won’t want to look like a tourist, caught in a tank top on a foggy, windy day. Take fashion advice from this local gal (below) and dress in layers. Heck, bring like four purses too.

San Francisco is a small city by comparison, but still too vast to walk everywhere, so my weekend involved a few cab rides. I have a video of my. Our driver was from Yemen and apparently had cloudy vision. He absolutely expected us to recognize songs by Tom Jones and other singers of his era. We obviously only look 25, so he was clearly drunk.

Ok, here’s where stuff kinda hits the wall. I LITERALLY, no, like, literally have a film degree. I have a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in Motion Picture & Video. Yet, I didn’t think about turning my phone to take this video. I also don’t know how to change it, so you’ll have to make like you are eating a taco and tilt your head.

Our happy (and drunk) driver had windows down and ABBA blaring. He also kept doing some creepy finger popping trick, which the camera just missed.

Our taxis were all summoned through the app Uber. If you haven’t heard of this, listen up, it’s awesome. You simply request a taxi or Limo, depending on your wallet and sense of self-worth, with a tap of a phone button. Uber locates you, finds a driver and notifies you of both the driver’s phone number, car ID and a photo of their face. The driver has your picture too, so no one will be stealing your ride, pal! You are given the fee in advance and pay through Paypal, including tip. No need to worry that your driver might take the long-cut to get to your destination. The only possible way I can see this being a bad idea is if your driver is a murderer, in which case, I’m sorry I recommended this app to you. Hope you are in heaven.

Speaking of heaven, this girl is in it. Not me, I’m at my desk and see NO signs of iced coffee fountains and still have frizz. I’m talking about the girl below, in the little hobbit-like house. She works at Juice Shop, a tiny closet of a shop that sells freshly bottled juice. Other than being kind of boring, how sweet of a job is this? You can people watch all day, you’ve got your refreshments next to you and no one is going to steal your favorite pen from your desk. Also, she could probably sell drugs and totally supplement her income. Juice Shop: 1994 Union St.

“But Kim,” you ask, “What if I find myself in the middle of the Tenderloin, needing a healthy breakfast after a long night of bad decisions? Well, have I got just the thing for you. Walk yourself a few blocks to the edge of Nob Hill at the TenderNob, which is slang for “Who are we kidding, this is still the Tenderloin” and visit Farm Table. Go early, like maybe 3 am, if you are hoping for a table. There’s just one. They totally aren’t joking with the name. The store isn’t much bigger than the hobbit house juice store I just showed you, but it’s pretty good. It’s tough to find a place downtown with homemade yogurt, gluten free foods, organic everything and an almond milk for your coffee. Farm Table: 754 Post St.

Lunch time? Got you covered there, too.

These are snapshots of our food at Pica Pica, a Latin inspired eatery which specializes in these little corn pockets called arepas. They are grilled on the outside and moist on the inside, perfect for holding together some tasty meat. I ordered the grilled chicken, which was marinated in love or something, it was SO good. The fat fries in the photo above are Yucca and tasted the opposite. Yumma, fat and dense fries for this chick. The restaurant is 100% gluten free, which is awesome for all you GF peeps.

If you have some Brazilian pals, tell them you are going to Pyka Pyka. One of our other cab drivers was surprised at our lunch location. Apparently, in Portuguese, pica means something really, really different than lunch. Oh boy, it is killing me not to insert joke here. Pica is also the name of a disorder where people are compelled to eat dirt, chalk or things of the sort. Maybe next time the Pica Pica folk open a restaurant, they can consult with a marketing firm.

I only had one dinner in the city, so you’re on your own for the next meal. Or, how about this for a segue…head over to Fresh & Easy, they have some changes in store. (Ba dum dum – cymbal sound). Which is JUST what I’ll be chatting about next go round. Also, I’ll add some funny photos in case you aren’t that interested in grocery stores. Happy Easter weekend to those who celebrate. Those who don’t, happy regular weekend!